Clan of the Hidden Arts
by cookiebelle
Summary: Claravelle is running from everything she knows including royalty. She puts her trust in the unknown, but how can she know that her only hope can be trusted? What else will she learn along the way? Brace yourselves for the Clan of the Hidden Arts.
1. Chapter 1 The Mysterious Messenger

Clan of the Hidden Arts 

Chapter One - The Mysterious Messenger

It's impossible to get to sleep tonight, thought Clare. She felt the presence of someone or something lurking within her room. She had blown out her candle many hours before, but this feeling had sent shivers down her spine, causing her great discomfort. With each minute that passed, the more alert she became. The only thing she could use was her own howling scream to defend herself from any further attacks, if she felt threatened. She tried to relax, but the haunting sensation would not cease, it was merciless. Her eyes were closed, but her ears were open, awaiting for a noise to reveal the identity of the mysterious thing. A shadow stood, towering over her head and torso. Her eyes suddenly opened, whilst taking a deep breath for a piercing scream, but a hand clasped around her mouth gagging her.

The only sound that was raised was small mumbles coming from her own mouth. "It's alright princess, you are not in any danger with me", soothed the voice.

It was young, gentle and that of a man. She sat up and peered at him with admiring eyes. He was about her age 15, medium height, masculine, brown wavy locks, but deep green eyes that spoke of the forest. His clothes were the colours of the Earth; his shirt was green, although not quite the colour of his eyes, his trousers were a murky brown, a bow and arrow strapped to his back and sheltered by a long dark cape. His boots were made of the finest leather, but were tattered and torn from being used to travel great distances and rough terrain. It was quite dark and only the light there was, was that of the moon's. He took his hand away from her lips.

"What do you want with me?" questioned Clare, concerned for her life.

"It is not what I want, it's what my clan wishes" his voice lowered.

"Clan? Surely there is no such thing. My Step Father has forbidden any group who bands together against his own wishes. Any form is punishable by, death" the word echoed throughout her mind, oh how she detested it.

"Indeed, but surely you have heard of the Clan of the Hidden Arts?" his voice somewhat curious.

"Only rumors, my messenger" she answered.

A grin rippled across his face, "Messenger? Is that what I am?"

"I suggest you keep your comments to yourself, unless you wish for me to send for the guards?" replied Clare, showing her own cheek.

"Oh no, there would be no need for that, your Highness" his smile only strengthened, "or would you prefer the show of blood?"

"You are not here for that, you have made your intentions clear. Tell me, what is this message from your clan?" she did state, her voice becoming stronger. She was no longer afraid of this intruder.

"My message is that you are great danger, there is a plot afoot concerning your mother and you. You have heard of the rumors yes? That the King has been frolicking with other ladies of the high court, especially one in particular. Rumor has it that he is sending someone to exterminate the Queen, so that he may be with his own dearly beloved and later he will send someone to exterminate, you" his voice now firm.

The thought of her own killing and that of her mother's made her stomach squirm. No, how could this happen! Surely her Step Father could not do such a horrid deed. Such a kind hearted man was he, who would not even think of such a horror.

"I cannot believe you. The King has only my Mother's and my own best interests at heart. He rid of my wretched Father, married my Mother and made me Princess. He would not dare."

His eyes became gentle, "So you do not believe me?"

"No, I do not. My life is not in any danger. Tell your clan, that I am not interested in anything they have to offer me."

He sighed and shook his head, "This will be the first and the last time we shall warn you. If you do not heed this warning, it may be harder to rescue you then at first."

"I do not need rescuing" she said boldly, she hoped she was right.

"Then there is nothing I can do for you" he said as he turned on his heel and went towards the open window. He jumped up onto the ledge and crouched, before turning to gaze at her one last time. "It may not be too late. You are welcome to the clan at any time. If you wish to find us, run as fast as you can into the middle of the Virgan Forest, if you can camp out there for one night, we will take you in. It is a test, to see whether you are ready for the road ahead. A necessary precaution. I bid you goodnight and farewell, my princess" he gave a small smile and blew a kiss to Clare before jumping from the ledge.

Clare gasped and ran to the window, but as she gazed down, her mysterious messenger, was nowhere to be seen. He was gone.


	2. Chapter 2 Left Behind

Chapter Two – Left Behind

Clare awoke the next morning somewhat, stunned of what happened the night before. Was it real or just a dream? No, it was definitely real. It deeply troubled her that a plot was afoot. She tried to make sense of last night's intruder. He was somewhat unique and quite handsome. Me, in love with a stranger? How could I possibly go so low, she thought and pushed her feelings aside.

No, she had to think logically about this. If the King really was planning on killing both she and her mother, why make them royalty and ruin his own reputation? Maybe he would send another to kill? Then, why not divorce her mother instead? Why must they be killed? This did not make sense.

She lay in bed for quite some time pondering, until she was interrupted by her lady in waiting. "Get up, you bag of bones. You don't want to miss out on breakfast do you? I hope you weren't staying up late reading again?"

"No Labellum, I haven't been. I've been awake for quite some time."

"Well, get up! The way you're going you may as well be crippled" commanded Labellum.

Clare smiled; Labellum always had something to complain about. She swung her legs to one side of the bed, before drawing the covers and sitting up. Labellum had already fetched her garments for the day.

"If you do not wish to get changed I suggest you sit there all day" smirked Labellum. Clare got up and stood before her. She began to dress Clare, in a cream, laced dress. Her figure was now exposed presenting her upper and lower body. Layers of fabric flowing from her hips, her upper body was tied with more protruding fabric and her dress was decorated with beads, lace ribbon and other ornaments. She was given cream delicate flat heeled shoes to match the dress.

"Please sit" said Lebullum politely, pointing to the dressing table.

She gracefully sat upon the chair, straightening her dress so it would not crushed by the time, her lady in waiting was done. Whilst Labellum was putting her long, golden hair in an extravagant bun, she looked at herself in the mirror, nothing had changed. She had a small, polite, delicate nose, curved lips and dark brown eyes. Sometimes she just wished she could somebody else. She gave a loud sigh; if only my life wasn't so boring, well, it was until last night, she thought.

Labellum was now finished, "Hurry down to the dining hall, I'm sure they'll be waiting for you."

"Thank you Labellum," replied Clare giving a smile and stood up. She began to walk away, leaving part of herself still at the dressing table. Her steps became quicker, she was starving.

A bowl of Pea soup was placed in front of her and a loaf of bread set in the centre of the table. The King, sat on her left at the top of the table and her Mother just opposite. After the servants had scurried away they began to eat and the conversation began.

"Late again Claravelle?" questioned his royal highness.

"Yes, sire. I struggled to sleep last night. I was quite restless" she answered in reply, taking another slurp of the thin pea soup.

"Indeed. Your Mother and I, disapprove of lateness you know this to be true. It is not becoming of a Princess, to be late for her appointments. That includes breakfast," spoke the King harshly, he was usually this critical. A disapproving frown was the closest he got to a smile.

There was an awkward silence only filled by the drinking of more soup. Her mother remained silent. Her blonde curls surrounded her face, and her hair also tied in a prestige bun. She looked very much like Clare, except for her sky blue eyes. The King, had fading grey hair, deep wrinkles, dark eyes and a pursed mouth. He was a little round, but his height made up for that. From then on, it was just quiet. No one spoke or uttered a word, until the end of the meal.

"May I be excused?" Clare asked. The King nodded, she rose from her seat and curtsied before making her way out the door.

I think I'll go visit Cenella, thought Clare and made her way towards the kitchen. As she pushed open the door Cenella, was putting another of her loaves into the boiling, hot oven. A bead of sweat was upon her brow, her hair was frizzy and was shoulder length.

She turned to Clare, with a warm expression on her face, "Ah, my dear Princess, what brings you here to my humble kitchen? Did the King not enjoy his breakfast?"

Clare laughed, "The only thing that gets in the way of your cooking is his stomach, when he cannot eat another mouth full. Surely you of all people know that?"

"Well there is no harm in checking, my dear. How have you been?" asked Cenella, preparing to make another loaf on the bench. She began kneading the dough with her fists.

"Well, to be honest, something happened last night?" replied Clare solemnly.

Cenella peered up from her work, whilst raising an eyebrow "Oh?"

"Listen, you must keep this a secret. I trust you Cenella, but I must have your word?"

Cenella stopped what she was doing and stood up straight, "You can trust me, my princess, you have my word that I will not tell a living soul. No one shall hear of it and they won't since nobody comes near my kitchen, except you. You've told me many secrets and not a single one has left my lips."

Thank goodness I can trust someone in this place, thought Clare who was most grateful. "A young man snuck into my room last night, he had a message from his clan that the King was planning on killing both my mother and I. I don't know whether to believe him."

A large frown gathered on Cenella's face, "This is quite a problem you have here. Did he say why the King would do such a thing?"

Clare tried her best to retain her composure, "He said that my Step Father has been 'frolicking with ladies of the high court' and one in particular, so he desires to rid of us both."

"You must tell no one of this, Clare. People do not joke about these things. Chances are that he might be telling the truth. Heed my words, Clare, they will probably come for you first, so I suggest you prepare yourself to make a clear escape. The clan is probably your best bet. Do you know where to find it?"

Clare was afraid of this, "I do, he told me so." Her eyes became moist, why on earth would his highness do such a thing?

"Clare, listen to me. As far as we know, this may not happen, but there is nothing wrong in being prepared. You still have time to begin your packing. The sooner the better."

Clare nodded, as streams of water trickled down her face. She began to walk away, when she felt Cenella's firm grip on her shoulder.

"Just be careful, my dear. The world is a dangerous place, and there some very bad people in it. At least you have someone to trust." Clare looked up at Cenella, "I wish it didn't have to be this way."

"I know my dear, I know."


	3. Chapter 3 Life and Death

Chapter Three – Life and Death

Cenella had given Clare a large, brown sack to fit all the essentials she would need for her trip. She would have to pack lightly. She packed her clothing, food, water, a blanket, ink, quills and paper. Looking at her sack from a distance, its contents bulged around the sides and a knot was tied securely at the top. That ought to do it, thought Clare.

She considered writing a note to leave behind, but then it could only make matters worse, so it was best not to. She was now prepared and she would leave after lunch. Her mind was only a whirl of confusion.

She sat on her Queen Bed and stared at the wooden door. Her plan; to leave after lunch, grab her things, silently head down to her horse, ride to the forest and stay the night. She deeply sighed, "if only there were another way". Suddenly, the door knocked. Oh no! The sack!

"Hang on a minute, I'll be with you shortly" Clare answered. She got up and ran to the sack; where could she hide it? Under the bed will do, covered by the valance, she thought. She pushed the sack under her bed and fixed her valance, so it was no longer visible.

"Come in" she answered, standing politely. Labellum opened the door and stood in the doorway.

"Come on Claravelle. You'll be late for lunch." Lunch, already?, she thought.

She didn't want to be late again, anything, but another lecture. Labellum left Clare in her room, but Clare scurried after her. She followed Labellum until they arrived at the dining hall once again. A roast was being laid upon the table, mounted with vegetables and gravy. Her mouth began to water, as she sat herself once again at the middle of the table. The servants had completed their duty of bringing in the food and they left for the royalty to eat in peace.

"Late again, I'm afraid Claravelle?" her stepfather said abruptly.

"I think you will find that I am right on time" replied Clare, carefully cutting away a piece of pork, before placing it into her mouth. Her jaws clenched on the food. Why was the king in such a bad mood? Something is surely wrong, she thought.

Two servants came to pour some wine for the royal family. One servant went to the King, the other to the Queen. The King's servant went away, while the other asked if Clare would also care for a drink. She declined, as she was happy not to drink anything. "Darling, surely you must have something to drink? You haven't had any liquid since breakfast? You must be parched?" spoke the King, taking a sip of wine. It was only on rare occasions he asked her this, why here and now? Not to mention he was so rude to her before, why so pleasant? Something is not right, Clare became concerned.

The servant gave a shallow grin; he was tall, with a deep imprints of age, a large mop of brown for hair, skinny and sly. There was something about him that seemed not quite right. "No, I'm quite fine thank you," said Clare, taking another bite, but this time of roast potato. The servant frowned, and slunk away, the King's eyes followed him.

Half way through the meal her highness took her first sip of wine and swallowed. She gasped, clutched at her throat and made ghastly gaping noises. The King looked at her stunned, Clare continued to look upon her dying mother. Clare jumped from her seat, making a loud noise, as her chair groaned across the stone floor and ran to her mother's aid. She pulled her mother's chair out from beneath the table and heaved her onto the floor, with the Queen's head in her lap. Her mother, did not look any better, in fact, she looked worse. The colour from her cheeks began to fade, as she began to turn grey. Clare took a glance at his Highness, he was speechless.

"Well do something! Anything! She's dying for heaven's sake!" she screeched.

His face still remained motionless, he was still seated. Clare looked down in her lap and continued to watch her Mother, still struggling for breath. "Please don't die Mama. I need you here. Please don't die" Clare whispered as tears bubbled to her eyes.

"Somebody help! Oh please help! Her royal highness has been poisoned!" called the King.

Both servants and guards came pouring into the room. They ran to Clare to support her and to save the Queen. They huddled around her asking each other what they should do. "Call for the Queen's Lady in Waiting!" cried one of the guards, but what could she possibly do to help?

Clare's mother struggled to speak, "I…….l-love…..yo-u….Cl-ar-a-vell-e."

With that, her Highness breathed heavily and gave a relaxed sigh. Her eyes cloes and she was gone.

"No! You can't die! I won't let you! This can't be happening! You can't die! No! No! No!" Clare screamed.

Tears were trickling down her face, as she kept repeating the words "You can't die."

Someone touched her shoulder, "It's time to go." "No I won't leave! I can't!" Clare whispered.

Two hands pulled at Clare's sides, her Mother's head slide onto the floor. "No! I won't leave her! You can't make me! No, I won't!" cried Clare, choked up with tears, as she continued to sob.

The hands continued to drag her away from her mother, from the surrounding crowd. As she came to a stop, Clare looked above her and stared into the face of none other than Cenella. "It's time for you to go. If there was a better time, it would be now."

"I can't Cenella. What will I do without my Mother? I can't just leave her" spoke Clare.

"My dear, she is gone to be with the Maker. You must do what she would want you to do, keep on living. Life must continue and there is no going back. So go, hurry to the clan who wishes to take you in and do not hesitate. Ride as fast as you can and stay on the road as much as possible, for they may follow your tracks. So go my darling, may God be with you" said Cenella, and wiped away some of Clare's tears.

A spark was alight inside Clare, she had something important to do. Clare stood up and met Cenella's face once more. Cenella gave a small smile, and hugged Clare.

"Go my Princess. Do what your Mother did not accomplish. Live," Cenella whispered into Clare's ear.

She released her and Clare headed out the dining hall. With each step she took, it was one further from death, and the other sprung into life.


End file.
